


Postcards from You

by Puniyo



Series: Casting Shadows [3]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Dark Stuff I'm warning you, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, There is consent, Threesome of sorts, Yuzuru is very manipulative, crude language, mirror play, talking dirty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 06:14:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14443113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puniyo/pseuds/Puniyo
Summary: ‘What did you do?’‘I did nothing. They did.’Javier falls into Yuzuru's game of manipulation.





	Postcards from You

**Author's Note:**

> Dear readers, Casting Shadows is continuing with dark themes and manipulation it is this time. Let me make clear it is not about being weak and trying to gain advantage of someone. No, it's about bearing someone to their bones and loving that person with all the flaws they have, because there is nothing wrong when it comes to the person you love. This how Yuzuru loves Javi and how Javi loves Yuzuru. 
> 
> *This work is not intended to offend anyone. I've put the explicit tag and I warn you again of the dark atmosphere. This is all a psychological game of seduction. BUT, if you find it disturbing, please do not read (and break my heart). 
> 
> ** This is purely a work of my imagination. In no ways the content of this piece reflects the attitudes of the people mention. This is FICTION!

‘Why didn’t you pick up the phone?’

Javier enters the room. It is exactly as he remembers from last time. Mountains of books written in Japanese next to his extremely thin laptop on the desk, a small cabinet (obviously not big enough) for his medals and trophies, and jeans discarded on the pile of T-shirts on the corner. The poster of Evgeni Plushenko and Torino 2006 was substituted with an A3 size photo of Fantasy on Ice last year, Javier can find himself in the group hug, but he doesn’t remember seeing a mirror, not of that size, the last time he came.

The room was chilly, even with the window closed and the mauve curtains drawn to the middle. Yuzuru sits on his own bed, the mattress sinking with his weight. He shrugs his shoulders with a certain annoyance, the action appearing to be both casual and apathetic. Almost impatient.

‘I didn’t want to talk.’

‘Now you do?’

‘No.’

There is something in Yuzuru’s voice that Javier finds irritating. This wasn’t his usual chirpy, high-pitched color, nor the luscious, honeyed guitar of his. And now he balances himself and fidgets until he finds the most comfortable position possible, his wrists supporting his upper body as he leans slightly backwards, tilting his head to the side in slow-motion, the angle not too wide, but enough that Javier can see red marks encircling his neck.

‘What did you do?’

‘I did nothing. _They_ did.’

Javier swallows dry. He clenches his hands into fists. Yuzuru moves his head again, to the other side and the marks are even more pronounced, his skin recently bruised.

‘Who are they?’

‘The same that entertain you. Red silk, Boulevard Hotel, what was her name? Christina?’

‘How do you know?’

‘I know _everything_ about you Javi.’ His lips curve into a pretentious smirk but his eyes betrays his conceited arrogance. They can almost hide his _hurt_. ‘And I know you’re mad.’

Javier can feel his blood rush to his temples. ‘I’m not.’

Yuzuru releases a vain chuckle. ‘You’re jealous of them.’

‘They have hurt you Yuzu.’

‘Do you want to hurt me Javi?’

The older man doesn’t answer, clearly knowing that he would not lie about his desires and all the things he wanted to do with that fallen angel body of his.

‘They _love_ me Javi.’ He spells every word as clear as he can so the Spaniard cannot shelter from them. ‘And they hurt me. They hurt me so much that each time I came I thought of you.’

‘Why are you doing this to me Yuzu?’

‘The first one looked like you, with his curly hair and Spanish accent. He called me _Yuzu_ too, in the same funny way as you do, each time he impaled me with his long fingers.’ He runs a hand through his own dark strands, some falling in front of his eyes. He knew Javier loved when he played with his hair. ‘He was good, but you’re still _better_ Javi.’

‘Stop.’

‘And the second, he had a friend the same age as you. His hair was wavy and wild but smelled nothing like your almond locks. His eyes were gorgeous but so different from yours. He didn’t speak English but I didn’t need him to talk to my cock. He was divine when he took me on the mouth.’ The younger man unbuttons his pajamas bottoms, the fabric on the waistband flapping to the sides, exposing the minimal pubic hairs in the same shades of his darkness. He wasn’t wearing any underwear.

Javier bites his lower lip, the blood that was causing him a headache now rushing at sprint pace to his loins.

‘He was so inexperienced, unlike you Javi. He bit the first time. It hurt but he apologized, and he sucked faster to make up for his carelessness. He was so cute that I wanted to suffocate him down on his throat. And I did. Oh _Javi_ ,’ Yuzuru lets out a moan with his name, ‘his tongue was like gelatin and I violated it, slapping with my tip. His friend was so jealous, like you Javi. He spread my buttocks and licked my hole. It was a strange dance at first but we found our rhythm, he using his own tongue to go in, while I slapped his friend on the lips, on the nose, on the cheeks. He was so jealous when I ejaculated in the other’s face that he buried his in my cock for the last drops.’

Javier feels a shiver down his spine and he imagines all that Yuzuru is saying, even more vividly in his mind, the voyeur in him wanted to listen to _more_.

‘What do you want, Yuzu?’

‘I really liked the manager of the French Restaurant we went to celebrate our medals. Romantic, red roses and hand-written notes on napkins. So cliché, but his hands were like yours Javi. He thought I was a virgin, so I pretended. I told him I had dreamed of brunettes and that I had never tried French champagne before.’

‘We had champagne on my birthday.’

‘He believed in me Javi. He poured me a bath all in champagne, the bubbles bursting on the sole of my feet, on the palm of my hands, on the tip of my–‘, Yuzuru lowers his pants further, his legs also trembling, ‘I told him I was ashamed of playing with color markers and glass bottles _here_. He carried me to his bed like a princess and he kissed my forehead, saying that I had all the right to explore my body. If only he knew how much you had already defiled me _Javi_.’

The Spaniard takes a step closer to the bed, his breath clearly elaborated and his jeans doing an awful job in disguising his erection.

‘I told him I was curious about the real thickness of a man and I even blushed when he ‘taught’ me how to touch his dick. He made love to me, so slow Javi, so careful that it hurt.’

‘You’re sick Yuzu.’

Yuzuru laughs, his voice this time both pathetic and pitiful. He opens his legs even wider, showing his own responsive intimacy to Javier. Not showing. Demanding attention.

‘You made me like this Javi.’

‘What else did they do to you?’

‘They tied me like you did Javi but you are clumsier. Do you remember Javi? That night when you won Autumn classic, you tied me with your costume and you ran your cock all over me. I can still taste your leaking saltiness.’ The younger man lifts one finger to his lips and kisses it, licks it from the nail to base, sucking on the space between the index and the middle one, and he releases it with an obscenely loud popping sound. His fingers glistens from the saliva coating. ‘Do you remember? Behind my knee, on my belly button, my armpit, my earlobe.’

Javier closes his eyes for a second but it seems like an eternity when all the images pour from his memory like the reel of a movie. He pulls down the zipper of his jeans, yet not reaching the freedom he thinks he is entitled to.

‘I remember _everything_ Javi.’

‘So their hands were better than mine?’

‘They loved me Javi. They wanted to kill me and I let them. There were blindfolds so I couldn’t see their impotent faces, the rope on my neck, the knots on my nipples, and they held me apart so wide and so brutish I thought I was going to break like a doll. They didn’t allow me to move. Each of them held me open for crucifixion and when I moved,’ Yuzuru tilts his head backwards, looking at the ceiling, his own voice cracking under the tension on his vocal chords, ‘the rope slashed on my Adam’s apple. I couldn’t see them but I imagined your face Javi. Their voices were so different from yours. There was not one, but two, maybe more in me. They wanted me to cry, but I didn’t.’

The younger man notices the sudden taller shadow that looms over him.

‘They weren’t you Javi.’

The Spaniard presses down on his partner’s throat, his owns fingers enveloping the wounded patches of skin. They burned as if they were his own and he almost came by this contact, his body deprived and robbed of the dark wizardry Yuzuru had on him. One word and he would throw himself to _his_ knees immediately.

‘So did you miss me?’

‘I didn’t.’

Javier presses firmer, the younger man’s pulse synchronized with his own.

‘I did.’ He wants to break Yuzuru, break him, break him, break him so he could pierce him back together, before Yuzuru broke him. ‘I missed you so much. When I called you last week and you ignored me,’ his windpipe is so exposed and fragile under his _matador_ hands he could crush him right there, ‘I fucked her so hard to see if she would cry the same way as you would. She didn’t. She slapped me for my barbarism, she said. You would never hit me, would you Yuzu?’

Yuzuru aims for Javier’s lips but he is held tightly against the mattress. He whispers an unyielding _No_ and Javier writhes at his submission.

‘You would take me even deeper, until my cock hit your liver and I released all my semen on your lungs so you could drown in my cum. Drown in white, isn’t that what you want?’

Yuzuru nods. He smirks and nods again. He is shaking from drinking of the older man.

‘And when I called you yesterday and you ignored me again, I hated you Yuzuru. I hated you so much, that I thought of dissecting you, make you a specimen of my collection, brand your dick with my name so no one else could have you without having me too.’

‘Do it.’ Yuzuru is the devil’s advocate and his laughter is wicked, beautifully distorted with the lack of air. ‘Do it Javi. Do it to me.’

‘Do you know how many came to me, offering services ‘like the Japanese boy’ I fancied so much and how many I have rejected because I knew none of them were you?’ Javier kisses Yuzuru, rough and miserably passionate, cursing those lips but pleading for forgiveness too, claiming the moment as theirs only but also cutting his chest open so Yuzuru could rip away his heart and eat it. ‘I knew none of them would taste like you, smell like you, wrap their legs like you do, beg with the same lewd moans as you do, for me, let me, entertain me, _break_ me as much as you do. I tried Yuzu.’

‘I’m sorry Javi.’

‘Some of them were good fucks.’ Yuzuru shifts his body but Javi has him immobilized. The rope marks were already gone and only his fingers would be imprinted now. He is feeling proud of being the only one now and this accomplishment destroys all the remaining barriers his sanity tried to keep intact. ‘I even let them _have_ me, but I had to jerk off to your face. Do you know how many times I did this? Do you ever think what you do to me Yuzu?’

‘I do.’ Yuzuru leans on the hands that were constricting him, now devoid of any strength and jolting under the tenderness he lavishes Javier. He stands up, his pants dropping to the floor, his own erection meeting with the bulging wetness of the Spaniard’s briefs, but he doesn’t rub on him. He hugs Javier, inhales his chocolate shampoo as he fixes an unruly curl behind his ear. ‘You’re so beautiful Javi.’

The younger man sways in the embrace, cooing the muffled sobs on his collarbones. He has broken him, and oh what perfection Javi is, distilled to his core, to the very first cell and no one else to depend on. He looks at the mirror in front of him, the Yuzuru in the reflection smirking at what he has done, and the mouth moves in different shapes, open and closed. Only he can hear what is being said.

_Bring him here._

He broke him and now he would save him. Save him so he could break him again. The thought thrilled him more than anything.

‘You’re so beautiful Javi.’ He repeats again while slowly pushing the Spaniard backwards, slow steps and not demanding. He pushes him with his fingers that massage his scalp, his elbows on his shoulder blades, soothing his twitching muscles, and his tongue that scooped each tear even before they fell on his barely shaved face.

Javier feels his back hit the sturdy surface of the mirror but it is not cold as he imagined. There is a certain warmth, so familiar to him and yet he can’t name it.

‘Here,’ Yuzuru extends his joined hands, palms up and wrists exposed to him, ‘tie me if you want. Use them, they are yours. I’ll do anything you want.’

Javier sinks his teeth in them, his canine digging deep in the skin until it draws blood. Yuzuru hisses at the vampiric instinct and the pain arouses him more than he already is. The Spaniard wipes the red stream on his lips, poisoned by the copper flavor, as he guides the pair of pale hands, together with his all over his chest, down to his pelvis and latching them onto his manhood. Yuzuru keeps his promise, his eyes not once blinking with regret but with scorching devotion. He swears he can hear Yuzuru moaning his name, even if the younger man is silent, their fingers coating both their cocks with their pre-cum and sweat. And more hands, his excitement must be making him delusional, because he can feel another pair on his back, nuzzling the protrusions of his spine and groping his buttocks, spreading him apart.

That is when he notices the smirk is back on Yuzuru’s face. ‘Are you enjoying what _we_ are doing?’

‘We?’

The voice is from behind, the same feathery and innocent quality as Yuzuru’s and yet, more velvety and ravenous. ‘Yes, we. _Our_ dear Javi.’ He doesn’t even have time to turn around when a pair of fingers plunge into him, straight to his prostate, as Yuzuru grips him hard.

His cry dries in his throat, more tears spilling from his eyes, the over stimulation front and back filling him with such a terrifying lust he is sure it will push him down the abyss and _break_ him.

‘You’re beautiful Javi. So beautiful.’ Yuzuru repeats again and again these words as he continues his ministrations. ‘I love you Javi.’

‘ _We_ love you Javi.’

The Spaniard nods, he can’t muster a coherent _yes_ , he can’t even think. He is there, standing in front of a mirror, not for long if Yuzuru keeps _loving_ him. There is no Javier at the moment, he thinks, only desire, shameless desire posing as him, as he bucks his hips to accommodate to the fingers inside of him and at the same time he lunges into skilled, slick hands. He has no sense of direction anymore, wanting both men to satiate him and this hunger to be devoured.

They do read his mind. When Yuzuru kisses the tip of his overly sensitive erection, swallowing in one try, so deep he disappears completely in his mouth, the reflection is jealous of the fun, of the breach on the contract of torture, and the Yuzuru in the mirror thrusts _inside_ Javier, preparations long due. The Spaniard really cries, the primal howl finally set free, more broken and more whole than he has ever experienced. To violate and to be violated, _oh god_ , and more is ripped from his gritted teeth.

He could just die with this _love_. He is penetrated faster and stronger, each pulse making him flinch and curl his toes. He cries and laughs. He coordinates the rhythm of them three, hot flesh hitting his walls while he took the same aphrodisiac to Yuzuru, who ardently sucked him and drank of his sex. He doesn’t even know when he came, almost unconscious from the sweet agony and the deadly orgasm.

Javier is on the floor, his legs finally giving up the last remnants of the old _him_ , his curls plastered on his sticky forehead. He hears Yuzuru gulping and swallow the last of his semen as he laid next to him, the younger man’s hand spreading _his_ own essence all over the mirror, licking the excess from his own fingers.

He notices the mirror is broken and he doesn’t have a reflection. A wave of terror crashes onto him.

‘Sleep Javi.’ Yuzuru’s hand are like a magic spell and he closes his eyes again. ‘I will protect you.’

**Author's Note:**

> If you managed to finish this piece, I salute you and feedback is much appreciated.


End file.
